


all that you are is all that I'll ever need

by doyoubeproudandlovelots



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, larrys there a bit but, mostly ziam aha, this is pure fluff tbh, yo this is mainly ziam yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 23:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6260125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doyoubeproudandlovelots/pseuds/doyoubeproudandlovelots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt- 'The key is under the mat!' -zayn and liam :') </p><p>basically some tooth rotting pining and fluff and teasing and and more fluff and hopefully a little humour followed by more fluff yes</p><p>includes zayn wearing palazzos and ripping them, harry and louis featuring as idiots, liam finding zayn yelling into his phone at the convenience store where he works his night shift and harry sleeping a whole lot</p>
            </blockquote>





	all that you are is all that I'll ever need

**Author's Note:**

> This was a lot of fun to write actually, even though it's always a joy to write ziam. I hope it's as much of a pleasure to read! <3 have a good one x

 

Zayn is still a little pissed off his arse, giggling to himself as he remembers the conversation he had with Louis yesterday about peanuts, as he walks along the road, wondering why the hell he hasn’t reached yet. He’s positive he’s been walking for half an hour. 

Doesn’t it usually take him less than fiv-fif- dammit, what’s the word? Oh yeah, fiveteen minutes. He stops in his wobbly tracks, leaning against a gate and squinting at his surroundings. Zayn’s not completely useless when he’s drunk, despite what Louis thinks, but he _really_ doesn’t recognise this street. 

No, wait. He does. It’s that cheerful Irish lad Niall’s street, though. Several blocks away from his. 

Fuck, Zayn is so _stupid_. He’s also suddenly very tired. He sighs, turning around and concentrating on not falling. 

He’s been walking for barely three minutes, when it begins pouring, drenching his clothes instantly and making him groan. He looks around for shelter, grinning when he spots a 24/6 convenience store with Christmas lights still hung up around the entrance. He jogs across the street, pushes the Pull door open and grimaces at the drooling employee passed out on the cashier desk. 

He bites his lip and walks around, looking for the stools sometimes scattered amongst the aisles. He doesn’t find any, but he sits on top of one of the bottom shelves, careful to let most of his weight fall on his legs, and not his arse. The rain shows no sign of stopping any time soon, the sound deafening as it hits the roof of the store. He pulls out his mobile, wondering if he should call Louis and get him to pick him up, before deciding against it and pulling up a game of Candy Crush. 

He falls asleep, five games in and the rain still going strong. His head is tucked between two shelves, his feet splayed across the aisle. 

He wakes out of a nightmare with a start, banging his head on the metal shelf, hands flailing because _what the fuck where is he right now._ He winces at the throbbing pain shooting through his head and neck, before ducking under the shelf and trying to stand. Except, because of his innate clumsiness and lingering drunkenness, he falls, his legs doing a sort of split and- and fuck, was that the sound of his pants tearing? He’s wearing _jeans_ , there’s no way, really.

He rights himself, standing and leaning against the counter, before looking down and shrieking when he sees that his pants have somehow turned into fucking palazzos? And yep, the flimsy material is obviously torn. Completely. All the way to the front. And it’s probably going to get worse every time he moves. 

Fantastic. And he can’t for the life of him figure out how his skinny jeans turned into palazzos. Palazzos, that honestly, look a little familiar. But he can’t seem to place-

Oh. 

-

Liam hums as he pushes the door open, rolling his eyes at the figure asleep on the desk. Harry is the worst employee _ever_ , Liam swears. He walks up to the lean, curly headed, drooling boy, shaking his shoulder firmly to wake him up. 

‘The fuck do you-oh, hi, Li.’ 

‘Don’t ‘hi’ me, Harry. Soon enough, you being my friend is not going to convince boss to let you continue working here.’ He scowls at Harry. 

Harry grins at him. ‘Liam, I’ll be working here as long as you’re able to work your puppy eyes. Trust me.’

Liam huffs, smacking him on the back of his head. ‘You’re awful.’

Harry shrugs. ‘And you’re an overachiever. Uni classes during the day, a three hour shift at the pub, _plus_ a five hour shift here. And for no reason.’

‘I literally only take one class on sound engineering everyday, Harry. And this shift doesn’t count, I just listen to music and do some reading and get paid for it.’ 

Harry cocks his head to the side, muttering something but Liam’s too busy focusing on a muffled yelling voice floating towards him- he shushes Harry with a finger on the lip. 

‘Do you hear that?’ He turns around, walking towards the yelling voice without waiting for answer. It’s not that they don’t get customers during their shifts at all, even at the graveyard hours, but they usually just pick up something and make their way out. Harry’s been asleep, and Liam’s been in the store for about ten minutes, which is more than long enough for him to buy the stuff and leave. 

He turns a corner, startling a dark haired boy who’s yelling into his phone, making him look up and into Liam’s eyes. He looks really familiar, for some reason. 

And fuck, his eyes. His lips. His hair, his skin, his eyebrows, his- is he wearing a buttery patterned palazzos? Liam’s eyes widen a little, but he’s no one to judge. They look quite cute on him, anyway. Liam appreciates his bravery and defiance of gender norms. He makes his way back to Harry, lets him know it’s just a lad his age and no one’s in danger, before scowling as he watches Harry curl into himself and close his eyes. 

He jogs back to the aisle with the cute boy, standing in front of him awkwardly.

He smiles warmly. ‘Can I help you?’ 

The man licks his lip, seeming nervous, before smiling lightly and holding up a finger at Liam. 

‘Louis, please, mate, I’m sure this classifies as an emergency.’ 

Liam frowns. 

‘Oh my god, no way. No way in hell. Who the fuck cares if it’s dark, I am not standing up in these, Louis. C’mon, mate, I-’ He pauses, narrowing his eyes at the floor. 

‘Wanker. See if I wingman you next time you see Curly.’ 

He watches as the boy grunts and hangs up the phone, before glancing up at Liam, red filling his cheeks. 

Liam asks, concerned. ‘Is there a problem? You don’t have to share but- you mentioned something about an emergency and just- maybe I could try and help?’

The boy huffs out a laugh, shrugging his shoulders. ‘Nothing you can really do to help, really, Liam.’ 

Liam nods. ‘You don’t know that, maybe- wait, how do you know my name?’ He hadn’t even gotten time to put his name tag on. 

The boy flushes again, looking down at the floor. Liam waits patiently for the him to explain.

‘Um, you work at the pub, right? A few streets down? I frequent it pretty often, like. Me and my mates? Um, there’s me, a tiny brunette with really sharp cheekbones and two brothers, um, Danny and Ant. I’m Zayn. You must have seen _them_ around, like-’

‘You too. I’ve- um, seen you around too. Just couldn’t place you, sorry.’

Zayn shrugs. ‘No worries, mate. My ego’s not bruised. Much.’ 

Liam laughs a bit, wondering if Harry’d kill him if he sat and chatted a while with this attractive- _beautiful_ , really-, cheeky stranger. Acquaintance. 

Liam reckons he’s probably asleep, though. 

‘You’re probably wondering why I’m in palazzos.’ Zayn says with a sigh. 

Liam shrugs, a smile on his lips. ‘I think it’s cool. They’re pretty. Sort of suit you really.’

Zayn gives him a sideway glance. ‘They are really. M’just not used to them, I guess. Well, not on me, anyway.’

Liam nods, trying not to stare at his eyelashes and cheekbones and sweet smile too much. 

‘I shagged a girl in the pubs’ loo, they’re hers. I was massively pissed, she might have had a thing for my jeans? I don’t know, man. I don’t remember half of it, but I remember pulling these off of her.’ 

Liam chuckles a bit, trying not to get hard at the image of Zayn shoving _his_ pants down, nimble fingers wrapping around the base of his cock, sinful lips coming to mouth at his tip. 

‘Right. Is that the disastrous part? I could switch with you if-’

Zayn waves him off. ‘That’s not the issue.’ He clears his throat. ‘Um. This material is a bit thin, like. Very easily torn. I was asleep here, right, minding my own business when I jolted out of a nightmare, yeah, and somehow I ended up tripping over my own feet and ripping them when I tried to stand- jesus, stop laughing, oh my _god_.’

Liam tries, he does, but he physically cannot. 70% of his sense of humour is the image of people falling over. Which is why he allocates half an hour every day to watch AFV. It increases his lifetime drastically. 

He doesn’t feel that guilty anymore though, because Zayn’s guffawing along with him, clutching his stomach and making a terrible cute scrunched up face that Liam feels himself falling for. 

What the fuck. 

‘Is that why you called your mate up?’

Zayn lets out a last giggle, before smiling and turning to Liam. ‘Yeah. He lives across my flat, but is a massive douche and won’t bring me a change because I once refused to drive half an hour on a night before my final exams so he could mope about some curly headed bastard he saw at the pub with ice cream. He’s the worst best mate.’ Zayn sniffs, fondly.

Liam sighs. ‘Best mates are awful. Do you remember someone sleeping at the desk when you walked in?’ 

Zayn nods slowly. ‘I think so. I’m at that stage between drunk and hungover so I’m not sure I registered much, though.’ 

‘That’s Harry, my best mate. Maybe you’ve seen him around the pub? He’s tall, clumsy, wears floral see through shirts and has dimples. And curls.’ 

Zayn gasps. ‘Fuck, is he Curly?’

‘I mean his _hair_ is, yeah-’

‘No, I mean. Louis, my best mate, he’s practically in love with a tall, gangly, clumsy, sheer floral shirts wearing, _curly headed_ lad. We call him Curly because like, hair, y’know? And Louis hasn’t mustered the courage to speak to him yet.’ Zayn rolls his eyes.

‘Is Louis tiny, gesticulative, fan of Adidas and Vans, and the one with the really sharp cheekbones?’

Zayn nods, eyes wide. 

‘Well, Harry’s planning to make a move on him. Has been ever since he noticed Louis drunkenly making eyes at him. Harry has a massive crush on him too, which is why he’s been too worried about misunderstandings Louis’ heart eyes to make a move yet.’

‘Fuck.’

‘Fuck indeed. This is going to be lovely to watch develop.’ 

‘Or,’ Zayn grins at him, sparkling eyes making Liam almost swoon, ‘this could be lovely to _meddle_ with.’

Liam’s taken back at Zayn’s apparent mischievous streak. ‘You don’t want to let love run it’s course?’

Zayn shrugs. ‘There’s many courses it could take, some more amusing than others.’ 

‘I’m in if you’re in.’ 

Zayn shoots him a startlingly bright grin, and a wink. 

‘About your- situation, I could try and help? Bring you a pair of pants from my place?’

Zayn eyes him, evidently wanting the help but not wanting to inconvenience him. ‘Do you have a car?’

‘Nope. The pub I work at, as you know, is a pretty short walk from here.’

‘How far’s your home?’

Liam grimaces. ‘About half an hour by the tube, but there isn’t one going to where I stay until morning, so that’s-’

‘Then no.’

‘It’s really just a fifty-sixty minute walk, honestly, I’m sure it’s a piece-’

‘No way, Liam.’ Zayn says firmly, staring him down. ‘I appreciate the offer so much, but i won’t let you do that because I’m too embarrassed to walk in the dark, pouring night home with a ripped pair of pants.’

‘The street is lit with streetlights, and it’s a busy street even at this time, I wouldn’t blame you.’ Liam bites his lip. ‘How far’s your home?’

Zayn frowns at him. ‘About a fifteen minute walk, why?’

Liam squirms. ‘Well, I could walk there? Pick up something for you from your place? Or Louis’? It’d be no big deal, honestly.’ He rushes to say because it honestly isn’t. 

Zayn cracks a smile. ‘Might not be a big deal for you, but I’d be letting practically a _stranger_ into my house, mate.’ 

Liam pales. ‘Shit, I didn’t think of th-’

Liam looks at him, puzzled, as Zayn starts laughing again, eyes going squinty and nose scrunching up.

‘I’m just messing with you. You’re pretty darn trustworthy, Earnest Eyebrows.’ 

Liam blushes and looks at his toes. 

‘I could go to your mates and pick something up, though? To be on the safe side?’

Zayn shakes his head. ‘You’re too nice for me to let you face his wrath, and you _will_ face his wrath if you wake him up at 2am.’

‘It’d honestly be no problem. Either choice. Harry’ll take my shift- he usually hangs around anyway. It’s not a big deal, Zayn, I promise. Let me help.’ 

Zayn seems to contemplate it for a while, chewing on his lips silently. ‘If you’re _sure_ it isn’t an inconvenience-’

‘It isn’t. I swear.’

Zayn grins at him. ‘Then I’ll give you my keys and directions to my flat.’ 

Liam grins his approval, opening and extending his hand for the keys. 

Zayn starts patting his pockets for his keys, frowning when he gets through them all once but doesn’t find them. 

‘Fuck.’, he says when he checks them multiple times but there are no keys to be found. 

He stares at Liam in anguish for a few moments, lower lip sticking out. It was all a bit- _very_ adorable.

‘The key under the mat!’  

Liam raises his eyebrows. 

‘The spare key! My mum makes me keep one for- times like these, I guess. It’s under the mat outside my flat.’ 

Liam sighs in relief, trying not to register how _cute_ this boy is when he’s excited. ‘Right, that’s good. Very handy.’ 

‘Right, yeah. Handy.’ 

Liam nods again. ‘Guess I should get going then? See you in thirty, mate.’ 

Zayn sticks his thumb up at Liam, smiling at him with his tongue pressed against his teeth. Liam’s heart flails from the sheer _cuteness._ He turns to leave, stopping to update Harry- leaving out the part that Zayn’s best mate is _that_ Louis.

-

Zayn mutters a thank you at Liam’s back, before quickly stripping the ripped palazzos- and damn, it’s a bigger tear than he’d thought it was- and quickly pulling on the ripped blue jeans Liam’d brought him. Fuck it felt good to be in something _not_ ripped-

‘Liam, these are the only pair of ripped pants I own. Did you choose these _deliberately_?’

Liam giggles, his shoulders shrugging into the laugh. Zayn suddenly feels warm all over. ‘It’s funny, yeah?’

‘You’re a goddamn dork, yeah? Alright, you can turn around.’ 

Liam turns around, face happy and open. Zayn takes the time to appreciate his face, his warm, earnest, gorgeous face, his wide, strong shoulders, the hot as hell chest hair peeking out from above his shirt. His _everything_ is attractive, and lovely and Zayn’s heart hasn’t stopped beating insanely fast since he first set eyes on him. 

‘So.’ He says, sitting back down on the lowest shelf, looking up at Liam. He tugs his hand, pleased when Liam places himself next to Zayn. ‘Did you do any snooping around at my place?’

Liam suddenly looks panicked. ‘ _No_ , I swear, I didn’t, Zayn-’

‘Babe, relax, I’m just joking, seriously. Relax.’ He rubs a bit on Liam’s shoulder, until he feels him relax under his hand.’ 

‘Well. I did look around a bit, I’m naturally curious. You’re into superheroes.’

It’s Zayn turn to blush. ‘Right, yeah, I am a bit into them. A lot really, it’s horrible-’

‘I also found a green dildo lying on the couch. Used.’ 

Zayn chokes on his spit. 

‘Fuck, uh, I’m sorry you had to see that, I’m _so_ -’

Liam’s eyes widen, his hands coming to rest on Zayn’s thigh. 

‘I have no issues with it, honestly. I’ve seen my fair share of them. I’m the same, really. Into dudes and all.’ He pauses. ‘Wait, I’m sorry if you’re not, I just assumed, I’m so shit, honestly-’

‘Honestly, Liam, relax, it’s all good. And for the record. I am. Into dudes. I like dick.’ 

‘Right, okay. Cool. And for the record, I’m massively into superheroes. Marvel and DC both. Batman’s my fave.’

Zayn nods, smiling at him, a bit nervous now, for some reason. ‘Mine’s Ironman. Second favourite is Batman too, though.’ 

Liam grins. 

‘So do you have a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Any sort of romantic partner?’

Zayn’s trying not to get his hopes up, really, but. ‘Nope, you?’ 

‘Nah, mate. Just haven’t found the right one, yet, you know?’

‘I do, yeah, same.’

‘So how about breakfast tomorrow, I’m-’

‘Do you feel like a walk back to my place again because-’

There’s a bit of giggling and blushing, and nervous heart fluttering, but Zayn rushes out. ‘I’d love for you to come over home with me and maybe catch a film? Marvel marathon? I have frozen pizza. And I could take you out for breakfast tomorrow, too, my treat for saving my dignity.’ He says, gesturing at the torn palazzos.

Liam nods his agreement happily. ‘But the breakfast was _my_ idea, you don’t get to steal it, mate.’ 

Zayn shrugs, resting his hand on Liam’s thigh. 

‘So it’s a date?’ 

‘It’s a date.’

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it was decent! Feedback is food for my motivation and writing so it's greatly appreciated. Thanks for stopping by! Have a lovely day! x


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